


To New Chances and Broken Hearts

by Johnlocked221b



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Apologies, Drinking & Talking, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Season/Series 03 Finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-15
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-11-14 13:56:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11209464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johnlocked221b/pseuds/Johnlocked221b
Summary: Jim shows up at Oswald's mansion to talk. Oswald could never resist him anyway.





	To New Chances and Broken Hearts

Jim doesn’t know why he’s here.

 

But here he is.

 

Standing in front of a large wooden door, knocking before he can change his mind. He’s about to turn and run when the door opens.

 

Penguin blinks out at him like he’s just woken up…only he’s still dressed, bar for his suit jacket, shoes, and tie. Wait…has he been crying?

 

The door almost slams in Jim’s face but he catches it with his arm, hissing at the pain. Well, after what he’s done, he probably deserves it.

 

“Oswald…”

 

“What do you want, Jim?” his voice is angry. Saddened. Exhausted.

 

“To talk.”

 

“We have nothing to talk about. Not anymore. Go away.” Jim knows that tone. A tone that says ‘ _stay_ ’ instead.

 

A tone that says ‘ _I’m incredibly lonely. Please don’t go_.’

 

Jim understands.

 

“Look, I’m sorry for what happened in the-“

 

The door flies open and suddenly, he has a face full of a very angry, snarling Penguin.

 

“If you _think_ for one second, _Jim Gordon_ , that you’re just going to knock on my door at three in the morning, two days after murdering Fish Mooney in cold blood and holding me up by my throat…” He’s practically shaking with rage. Anyone else would be dead by now, Jim knows. “I-if you think you’re just going to say ‘ _I’m sorry_ ’ and I’m just going to forgive you and fall back into your arms…you are an _idiot_.”

 

Why did Jim think this would go well? Why did he assume this would be like any other time he’s done this?

 

“I _am_ sorry…”

 

Wow, he might really _be_ an idiot.

 

“The virus-“

 

“Oh, don’t you _dare-“_

“Pengy?” It’s a female voice and Jim watches some of the tension in Oswald’s shoulders melt away. “Are you okay? Is he bothering you?”

 

Oswald closes his eyes and bows his head. “I’m fine. Go back to bed.”

 

“Are you sure? I could get Victor and-“

 

“Ivy, _please_ …I can handle it.”

 

Jim watches Ivy give Penguin another worried glance and then walk back upstairs.

 

“You moved on fast. After-“

 

Oswald gives him a look.

 

“Please, Jim. She’s like a little sister. I would never.”

 

Jim chews at the inside of his cheek and Oswald relaxes with a deep, soul-heavy sigh.

 

“Please, _old friend_ , come in.”

 

Oswald steps to the side and Jim hesitates before walking past him and into the foyer of the large mansion. It’s old and decorated lavishly with antiques that must cost a fortune. Old Van Dahl family heirlooms and the like. Jim would expect nothing less.

 

“Ivy said something about getting Victor? Is Zsasz back under your employment?” Jim asks, merely out of curiosity. Okay, and maybe fear. Victor Zsasz is a dedicated and intense sonovabitch.

 

“If only, but no. Unfortunately. He returned to Falcone’s side like an overeager, salivating…mutt.” Oswald sneers, clearly upset by the perceived betrayal. “But I have Victor Fries now. He’s _much_ more valuable.”

 

Jim follows him to the sitting room where another one of Oswald’s old friends stands, frozen mid-scream, in a frosty glass box. Jim eyes Ed in poorly masked shock.

 

“Take a good, long look, Jim. That’s what happens to friends who betray me. I fashion them into _furniture._ ” Oswald tells him, tone dark.

 

“Noted…” Jim mutters and turns to face Oswald.

 

Oswald sits on the sofa and pours himself a glass of wine, deliberately not asking if Jim wants any. He’s still angry but it’s hard to stay that way looking into Jim Gordon’s big blue eyes. So he’ll be _petty_.

 

“Why are you here, Jim?”

 

“To talk.” He repeats himself.

 

“Mm but you chose to arrive at three AM. Something tells me this is more than an idle chat.”

 

Oswald sips his wine and licks the red from his lips, noticing the way Jim’s eyes follow his tongue. Odd.

 

“I needed to apologize.”

 

“I see. So you can’t bear the thought of me seeing you for what you really are, instead of that perfect image of a good, honest cop I thought you were. You-and I’m just going out on a limb here-are desperately lonely _and_ you want my forgiveness so that you can move on and redeem yourself. Am I right so far?” Oswald sneers.

 

“No, I-“

 

“Save it, Jim. I think we both know that you never required my approval before and aren’t very likely to need it now. So what is it then?”

 

Jim stands, quiet.

 

“Loneliness. Well…” Oswald tilts his head a little as if to say ‘ _that’s what you get_.’ “If you would stop going out of your way to ruin every relationship you ever had-“

 

Jim’s jaw tightens. “Don’t.”

 

“ _What_? ‘Don’t’ _what_? Don’t point out your flaws? Don’t expose you? Don’t insinuate that maybe everyone leaves you for a reason? Don’t point out that the only way you knew how to acquire love was to destroy what…or rather, _who_ was standing in your way? Don’t remind you that the love of your life is now _gone_ and it’s all your fault?”

 

“How do you know that?” Jim asks, brows furrowed.

 

“I think you and I have a lot more in common than you think.” Oswald raises his glass and swallows hard with a glance toward the ice-block in the middle of the room.

 

Jim sighs and sits down in the chair opposite the sofa. “Yeah, maybe we do.”

 

Oswald hums in a way that says ‘ _I told you so_ ’ and finishes off his glass of wine.

 

“Love is a waste of time and valuable resources, Jim. The quicker you come to realize it, the better.”

 

Jim looks over at him. “You don’t really believe that.”

 

“Don’t I? Love made me weak. It took away everyone I held dear. It tore down my defenses and left me bleeding in a fucking river.”

 

Jim grimaces. “Ed did that?”

 

Oswald’s jaw tightens.

 

“Sorry…”

 

Oswald waves him off. “No need. At least you had the decency to _not_ shoot me before shoving me in that cold hell.”

 

Jim chuckles. That day seems so long ago now.

 

“I don’t think love is a weakness though. Not with the right person.” Jim says softly.

 

Oswald looks over at him and pours another glass, and a second for Jim. “I think that ship has long since sailed, old friend. The right person is most likely at the bottom of the harbor, along with the rest of my heart.”

 

Jim sighs deeply. “And mine is on a train to god knows where.”

 

Oswald’s lips curl up in a small smile as he raises his glass. “To lost chances and broken hearts.”

 

Jim gestures with his glass and then downs it. Oswald graciously refills the glass.

 

Jim waits for him to set the glass down before leaning over and placing his lips over Oswald’s. He tastes of red wine and salty tears. It takes him all of three seconds to realize Oswald isn’t kissing back. He’s frozen.

 

Jim pulls back and shifts awkwardly, moving to get up. “Oh god, I’m sorry.”

 

Oswald’s hand covers Jim’s and his eyelashes flutter. “N-no…don’t be. I don’t…I don’t mind.”

 

Jim eyes Oswald’s blushing features for anything resembling anger or disgust. All he finds is wide eyes and a small smile. He is immediately brought back to when Oswald looked at him like that all the time. He feels a deep, longing ache for that.

 

Jim offers up a soft smile of his own and relaxes into the chair. He raises his wine glass and nods. “To new chances and healing hearts.”

 

 

 

 


End file.
